


in my defense, spring

by excelsors



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M, soft mornings in st. agnes, that's all it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-03 23:03:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5310473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/excelsors/pseuds/excelsors
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He looks even closer at Ronan, traces the lines of his back, searching for some explanation in his skin. Why can’t he stop thinking about Ronan’s mouth? What is it about Ronan that turns Adam fragile and uncertain? When did his body become gossamer and glass?</p>
            </blockquote>





	in my defense, spring

**Author's Note:**

> just a little prompt from tumblr, come visit me @ excelsors

"So in my defense, when he touched me, the lights of my body came on.  
In my defense, the windows were thrown open. In my defense, _spring_."  
-Cristin O’Keefe Aptowicz, “Not Doing Something Wrong Isn’t the Same As Doing Something Right”

-

Adam wakes quietly, his internal clock chiming a few minutes before his cheap drugstore one does. He’s surprised that he slept at all, really. His bed is small enough that he barely fits in it comfortably, let alone with another body next to his. 

The other body is shifting behind him, Ronan’s restless torso twisting and turning like it always does in the early morning. 

It surprises Adam to think that he knows the rituals of Ronan’s body, that he knows things about Ronan that not even Gansey knows. It sends a shiver up his spine to know that Ronan has chosen to share these things with him, wittingly or otherwise. 

As his eyes adjust to the daylight, Ronan shifts again, coming closer this time. His breath fogs warm and soft across the back of Adam’s neck. 

Adam closes his eyes and lives in the moment, in the alternate reality where he could pull Ronan closer, intertwine their arms and feel the rest of him too, not just his breath. Maybe he could turn himself to face Ronan, tuck himself between his neck and collarbone. Maybe kiss the sensitive skin there. Maybe kiss him. 

But then the fear starts bubbling up in the pit of his stomach and he opens his eyes. If he keeps thinking like that, the fear will grow, it will take over. It will choke him. Who knows where it comes from, who knows where it lives, but it lives. The fear is very much alive inside of Adam Parrish. 

He gets out of the bed as quickly as he can without making the springs of the bed moan and creak. Checking over his shoulder quickly to make sure Ronan is still asleep, he makes his way to his dresser and braces himself along the edge. 

His hands are shaking and he doesn’t know why.

He turns to look at Ronan and he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know why he can’t just touch him, can’t just say something, anything. 

Watching the way Ronan’s chest moves up and down, Adam tries to match his breathing in an effort to calm himself. But this only makes him think of what it would be like to feel their chests moving in tandem, to feel the expansion of Ronan’s lungs under his skin, to know they’re breathing the same air. 

He looks even closer at Ronan, traces the lines of his back, searching for some explanation in his skin. Why can’t he stop thinking about Ronan’s mouth? What is it about Ronan that turns Adam fragile and uncertain? When did his body become gossamer and glass?

Before he can answer, Ronan opens his eyes and looks right at him. 

“I’m a light sleeper, Parrish.”

Adam is caught breathless, unable to speak or inhale as shame burns through him. After a few moments of Ronan's eyes on him, Ronan's eyes making him feel even more on fire, he turns away to stare at the empty wall.

It’s quiet except for their breathing.

Just as Adam is about to make a run for the bathroom, Ronan speaks again. 

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

Adam can’t help the way he turns, the way his body moves towards the sound of Ronan’s gentle voice, of his accusation. His mouth is open, ready to defend himself but nothing comes out.

They’re staring at each other, Adam’s knuckles white from his grip on the dresser and Ronan draped in one of Adam’s sheets.

It’s quiet except for their breathing.

“Don’t deny it,” Ronan says, tilting his head slowly. “Actually, deny it all you want. It doesn’t matter. I’ve seen the way you look at me. You can’t take that back.”

With that, Ronan drops his head back onto the pillow and stares at the ceiling, his hands pressed under his neck. 

Adam takes a deep breath, his voice barely above a whisper when he speaks. It’s the bravest thing he’s ever said. 

“What if I don’t want to take it back?”


End file.
